


Sparks of Chaos

by KaHan0402



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Home, Magic-Users, Other, Psychic Abilities, Self Confidence, Self-Discovery, Sibling Love, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaHan0402/pseuds/KaHan0402
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding herself at the center of chaotic events on Asgard, Sigyn is forced to provide answers for something she does not understand. Plucked from her home and taken under very influential wings she must navigate her way through uncharted waters and fulfill the duties she is bound to. Luckily, she does not find herself completely alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Feast of the Fallen

The halls of the house of the Norn’s echoed with the heavy footsteps of the running novice. Her breaths matching the thumping of her heavy feet, Sigyn's face flushed a color almost matching the copper strands of hair that peeped beneath the hood she was required to wear by her order. As far as members of The Sisters of the Fates went, Sigyn was most peculiar, at least this was how the High Mother, Nålys, described her the many times she had to reprimand her for some thing or another. She simply didn't fit. The rest of her sisters were prim, proper and pristine, pious and refined, everything that the sacred house of the fates valued. Sigyn, while virtuous, kind hearted and wholesome, was scatty. Her appearance was nearly always met with scrutiny from the superiors in the holy order. No matter how hard she tried, something about her was always out of place. A stain on her sleeve, her fingers covered in ink, her thick, untameable red mane breaking out from beneath the habit that so desperately tried to conceal it. She was always the last one to appear for ceremonies and duties, forever delayed by gods knows what. Something which was most displeasing to the rest of the sisterhood.

She was always the recipient of the same scolding. Mother Nålys would take her aside and hammer out the same lines again and again, trying to coax her wayward ward into bettering herself. The words of their last conversation reverberated in Sigyns mind, not unlike the thunder caused by her racing feet.

“I am trying Mother” The girl humbly offered in earnest, her steel grey eyes fighting to keep in contact with those of Mother Nålys, who sat behind her modest desk, her fingers squeezing the bridge of her nose as she fought her frustration with her girl.

“I know, dear one” Nålys replied, as she lowered her hand to the desk, bracing herself before the stern words she knew she must say left her mouth. “I know your intentions are good, but you really must try in all sincerity to follow them through. We have our reasons for doing things the way we do and if you are truly dedicated as you say you are then I implore you to resist whatever it is that distracts you.”

“I will try.”

Sigyn had made her promise to adhere to the ways of the sisterhood with all the sincerity that the High Mother required, but she couldn't help being distracted. Even now as she continued to run, her breath ripping at the back of her throat as she turned the last few corners which would bring her to the atrium in which the rest of the sisters were already, presumably, gathered, her mind was wandering and she fought with all her will to resist it.

Today was not a day for distractions. Of all the days on Asgard to leave your mind elsewhere, The Feast of the Fallen was not the day to do it. It was the most sacred day to the Asgardians, a day to remember those that had fallen in battle, celebrate their glory and pray that it would be continued in Valhalla. Sigyn appreciated and understood how sacred it was and the great importance that it held for everyone, a fact she tried to focus on as she rounded the final corner, her hood now almost completely detached from her head, her hair tumbling out behind her in knots as she entered the atrium.

As she predicted, every other member of the sisterhood was lined up in the small courtyard ready and waiting to make their way to the sacred temple which loomed over the Holy House. Sigyn gazed up at the high towers of the building that rose over the outer walls of the enclosure as she caught her breath. The House of the Norns, which was home to the sisterhood, was only a small part of a sprawling complex that included the sacred temple and other holy houses, the sheer scale always intimidated Sigyn and again, had led her to distraction.

She was pulled from her trance by one of her superiors, whose stern face told Sigyn what she already knew.

“Of all the days, Sigyn.” the sister chastised her as she guided her into a line with the other novices.

Sigyn, still out of breath couldn't muster a response as her face reddened even more. She felt the stares of the entire sisterhood. Her surrounding novices tittered with laughter as she tried to wrangle her hood back into position, stuffing her hair back into the folds with little success. The more superior sisters scowled as the usual suspect showed, what they considered, blatant disregard for the holiest of days.

Her face now burning with embarrassment and exhaustion following her impromptu sprint, Sigyn struggled with her cap as the bells of the temple began to chime, signalling the call to ceremony. Growing increasingly frustrated with the garment, Sigyn tugged desperately at the corners of the hood as the sisters began to turn and move into line. Panicking as the sea of women in blue dresses began to move Sigyn froze as she felt two soft hands make contact with her own.  
Bringing her eyes to meet those of Mother Nålys she felt both relief and guilt as the Mother gently tucked her locks beneath the blue hood, softly peeling it into place.

Sigyn tried to utter some form of apology but was cut off by Nålys’ cool voice.

“Later, Sigyn”

The High Mother serenely made her way to the front of the crowd, her blue robes flowing out behind her as she approached the steps that led the way to the temple, the white stripe that adored her clothing alone, symbolizing her rank amongst the sisterhood, almost melting into the marble floor of the atrium.

Sigyn turned into her place in line, now presentable for the ceremony. She could still feel the giggles reverberate amongst the novices that surrounded her. Climbing the steps, she focused all of her attention on trying not to trip over the ends of her robe. The journey to the temple was a blur, Sigyn simply followed her fellow novices as her mind flooded with guilt from causing a fuss on this day, of all days. The sisters entered the temple in twos, where the majority of the citizens of Asgard already were. They bypassed the citizens, heading for the upper section of the building. They were to be seated on the right side, reserved for members of the clergy. On the left side were members of the military, those who continued to serve Asgard proudly. The center of the temple was reserved for the Royal family.

As the Novices filed into their seats, Sigyn winced as she realized that she would be seated in the direct view of the Royals. Already daunted by the whole thing she was now convinced that she would, in some way shape or form, completely embarrass herself and the sisterhood. Sigyn fought the urge to swear as she bit her lip and took her seat, only to be poked by the novice who stood beside her. Sigyn rose to her feet just in time as the Allfather and his family marched past the pews in which she sat.

“What the hell is wrong with me today” Sigyn thought to herself as her inner panic grew. It was not as if this was her first ceremony, she knew the order of things. Why on earth would she take her seat before the passing of the King?

Inhaling deeply, Sigyn tried to focus on the ceremony, breathing slowly and calmly as she took her seat following the Royal families lead. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The events leading up to the ceremony of the feast of the fallen had left her anxious and out of place. She longed for nothing more than to leave the temple and return to the solitude of her dormitory, away from embarrassment and distraction.

She continued to focus on her breath as Mother Nålys and her male counterpart from the Sons of Bor, another holy order, made their way to the dais to assist the Allfather in conducting the ceremony. As they took their places Sigyn continued to pace her breaths. She could feel the glare of the novice sitting to her right but cared little, it was either control her breaths or cause further embarrassment. Breathing in, Sigyn fixed her grey eyes on the King, Odin, as he made his way to the top to the temple. He cut an imposing figure, confidently striding from where his family were seated to the top of the podium, where he was greeted by the heads of the holy houses. As the Allfather turned to face the congregation Sigyn looked away. She couldn't bear the thought of him locking eyes with her as she tried to huff and puff her sudden anxieties away.

Instead she focused her gaze on the royal family, who were seated just below the steps to the dais. At the head of the lot was Frigga, Odin's queen and the mother to all Asgardians. Fierce as she was, Frigga was less intimidating to Sigyn than Odin. She had already encountered her through her work with the sisterhood and often saw her in discussion with Mother Nålys. Frigga made her feel safe and secure, her presence calmed Sigyn and her breaths became steady as her anxieties waned.

She could hear the Allfathers voice begin to penetrate her mind as he conducted the ceremony.

“Today, we remember all of those who make Asgard honorable...”

Sigyn chose to distract herself from his words, his voice causing her anxieties to flare. she continued to focus on her breathing, her eye moving from Frigga to the royal princes. Sitting to the queens left was Thor, the crown prince. A noted military man, he had been victorious in many battles and Sigyn noted that he was taking the events of the day with extreme seriousness. There was always whispers of Thor being hot headed and flighty but if there was any truth to them then he did not reveal it today. Sitting tall and proud behind his mother Thor stared up at his father, ingesting every word and action that the King made on the dais, honoring the ceremony and tradition that he would one day be responsible for. The thought of the responsibility ahead of him made Sigyn begin to feel ill. She continued her breaths, staring at the floor for a moment to ease the current bout of nausea she was experiencing.

“Just breathe” she thought. She began to fidget with the corners of her sleeves, trying to distract herself. If she vomited in the middle of the ceremony she feared it would be the last straw, even Mother Nålys, kind and patient as she was, would find it difficult to be forgiving of such chaos.

Composing herself she returned her gaze to the queen. She was serene and composed everything Sigyn wished she could be right at the moment. Her eldest son continued his display of devotion to the ceremony. Sigyn's eyes roved from Thor to the second prince, Loki.

Sigyn froze. Far from putting on the same pious act that Thor was performing so well, or showing the serene devotion that his mother was in earnest, the prince was engaged in a similar act as Sigyn, distracted from the ceremony he was gazing straight at the novice. Her breath stopped altogether. The flush that had taken hold of her cheeks drained away, taking the blood rose tint with them. Everyone else had their heads tilted slightly to the side focused on Odin, but Loki was staring straight ahead. He grinned as Sigyn met his gaze, out of mischief or sympathy, the young sister couldn't tell. He was not as military minded as Thor but Sigyn had expected him to show the same display of devotion as the rest of his family. Then again he had probably expected her to be showing the same devotion as the rest of the order. It was curious, but Sigyn didn't feel threatened or embarrassed that Loki had caught her out. If anything they had caught each other out, both driven to distraction by their wandering minds. Sigyn smiled at the prince, her thin lips slanting crookedly, an awkward grin that matched her personality.

Loki continued to smirk, looking sideways briefly at his father and then back to Sigyn. She almost felt like laughing, her anxieties seemed so far away now, if only for a moment. But the moment waned, drained away as quickly as the color had melted from Sigyns cheeks. Her mind suddenly filled with a sense of dread, her face flooding with shades of red once more. Her thoughts became muddled. Everything spun around her. She could hear Odin's voice, booming from the podium but sounding almost as if it were in another room, another building, another land. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking for the source of her anxiety. She could see the sisterhood, standing alongside the Sons of Bor, a sea of Blue and Brown. Across she could make out the members of the military and all around the sentinels, standing stoic in their duty. She made contact once again with Loki, whose carefree expression had now changed to one of concern. Their eyes remained locked for a moment before everything slowed.

Life was moving at half the pace as Sigyn turned her head, facing the parapet with the rest of the congregation. She watched, in horror, as one of the sentinels slowly and stealthily moved, his hand reaching across his body. Sigyns mouth opened as if to scream but no sound came out, she turned her head again, hoping that Loki would still be watching her so she could alert him.

Before she had even turned the prince had jumped from his seat, rushing forward towards the sentinel. Thor, had also noticed and was just ahead of Loki, striking the Sentinel before Loki had moved past their mother. Sigyn stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the Sentinel who was being held down by Thor. He wriggled as the Thunder god pulled the needle like dagger from his hand.

Chaos flooded the temple. Screams erupted and the whole congregation was in panic. Sigyn became unsteady, unsure of her surroundings. Just as she heard the novice beside her roar at her to follow the rest of the sisters fleeing the congregation she felt strong hands grab her and pull her away.

“Take her for questioning” the sentinel who now stood between her and the royal family commanded the two guards who held her captive.

She heard Mother Nålys scream her name as she was dragged backwards. The last thing she saw was Loki's face, calm in a crowd full of panic.


	2. The Violet Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> Mild peril, panic and distress, forceful restraint and entrapment.

Sigyn wasn't unused to Cells, her own dormitory in the House of the Norns was little more than a cell, but at least that felt more free. At least it had light. This chamber was pitch black, with only a vent in the door to make her feel connected to another place. Not even a window was there to let her know that the world was outside. No light and no life, the novice felt absolutely stifled.

It couldn't have been long since she had been tossed into the dungeons by the royal guards but Sigyn was beginning to feel the overwhelming sense of suffocation that was the little concrete prisons purpose. Leaning against the cold calloused wall, she tried to control her breaths as she had done in the temple. One breath in, one breath out. She had discarded her troublesome hood, its hold on her head making her feel like her brain was being gently but forcefully compressed. For the first time in forever she was thankful for the thick length of hair that fell past her shoulders, its bulkiness providing a small but welcome comfort, cushioning her upper body as she rested against the ragged stones.

Time ticked past, slowly or quickly Sigyn could not tell. It felt like she had been imprisoned for hours and the longer it seemed, the more unsettled she became. The shape of the cell magnified every sound, drips of water became enormous boulders of moisture that would flood the small space before long. Every insect that crawled across the crusty floor became a much larger beast, the presence of which made Sigyns skin crawl as if they were upon her.

The water dripped, the insects clicked and time continued to tick, on and on and on. Sigyn became more and more restless, the relief that her hair had provided was now wearing thin as her distress began to escalate. The removal of her hood was not enough and Sigyn clawed at her collar, trying to pluck it from her neck for fear that it might choke her. She was trying to control her breathing and remain calm but she was failing. Forcing her collar apart she inhaled deeply, gulping in one blissful breath of fresh air before it became hot and heavy once more, suffocating her where she sat.

Trying her hardest to remain composed she tugged at the string that held her heavy gown together, her sense of coordination hindered by the darkness that shrouded her. Sigyn tried to be gentle, knowing that if she tried to force the thick knot at her waist apart it would hold her in tighter. Her long fingers picked at the fastening on her right side, sending more echoes ricocheting around the cell. The reverberations further played tricks on her already fragile mind, as one bounced off the wall behind her and into her ear. Sigyn jumped, mistaking the reflection of her clicks for another presence. She kept picking at the rope, praying that her ordeal would end, her force becoming greater as she felt what she hoped was merely a figment of her imagination brush past her left thigh.

Her breaths were beyond control and they came closer together as tears welled in her eyes. The dark room lunged from side to side, rotating beneath her and around her. Her stomach clenched as nausea overcame her. Just as she released the string that held together her gown she felt the walls begin to constrict around her. With one last breath she exclaimed her fear out loud as everything began to fall apart.

“Valhalla help me!”

The room became blacker than before as her robe came undone and she lost consciousness.

......................

She was no longer in her Cell but back in the temple, the place where her horrid journey into blackness had begun, except this time she was alone. The crowds were gone and her sisters were absent from her side. The military men and women who had gathered there to celebrate their fallen friends, to hope beyond hope that one day they might join them in glory were nowhere to be seen, the large area which they took up vast and vacuous. 

A chill hung in the air, not unpleasant but somehow as eerie as it was fresh. Sigyn savored the release she felt from her previous situation, the bright wide open space of the temple a welcome contrast to the dark constricting chamber she’d been confined in. She stretched out her arms feeling the freedom of the light grey gown she now stood in, the linen material loosely falling about her allowing the gentle breeze to soothe her soul. She was calm, for the first time in a long time, and felt an enlightening sense of clarity.

Just as before, the heavy oaken doors to the great chapel opened and Odin Allfather strode towards the dais at the head of the aisle. Sigyn gazed at him unfazed as he marched passed her and onto the parapet. Upon reaching the place of ceremony the King turned and faced the flickering torch that was placed at the center of the altar. Unlike it’s previously orange hue the flame was now purple, dark violet licks of fire casting a shadow on the Allfathers face.

“An Omen” Sigyn whispered as she tilted her head, entranced by what stood before her.

Intrigued, her eye moved from the King, past the mystifying fire and rested on the form of the sentinel. He was not like before. His formerly pristine armour was falling apart, the golden gleaming metal that had adorned his frame now a tarnished silver, the links riddled with rust. Beneath the obviously ancient apparel, Sigyn sensed was a young face. The Sentinel remained frozen.

Unaffected by her previous fears Sigyn exited the pew and silently approached the dais. She glanced at Odin as she moved passed him. He seemed unaware and remained staring at the violet flame, Sigyn noted, with a grimace of unease. Returning her attention to the Sentinel, she took the last few steps towards him, stopping within a few feet of where he stood.

Just as she had perceived, the face she could see beneath the cracked helmet was of a young man, perhaps the same age as the second prince, Loki. His eyes were full of hate, wild unbridled hate. Staring into them sent a jolt of horror up Sigyns spine, her sense of discomfort beginning to grow. Unnerved but determined, Sigyn continued her investigation of the man who wanted to take the Allfathers life. She stepped even closer, her temperature beginning to rise as fear began to flood her veins. In his left hand, he held the long thin needle like blade that was intended for Odins heart. This too was discolored and covered in rust.

The novice knelt down and studied it. The rust was like charcoal, flaking as she lightly brushed it with her thumb. The rest of the blade was worn, used many times, Sigyn could believe that without doubt. Just like the flame that cast the shadow on the Kings face, the steel spike was flecked with streaks of dark purple, unnoticed from afar but on close inspection they stood out like a sore thumb. She leaned in closer, wanting to take in every detail she possibly could when suddenly a great force flung her to the back of the dais and left her flat on the floor.

Sigyn was rooted to the ground. She tried to move her arms to push herself into a standing position but could not fight off the paralysis that had taken hold. The ground was rough and she tried to cry out as she felt a heavy invisible cloth cover her body. Her eyes darted to where the Allfather had stood but he was gone the purple fire now rising into the towers of the temple. the whole cathedral was illuminated and Sigyn tried to scream as she could see the shadow of the sentinel approach her. He floated slowly along the now broken marble floor, coming to a stop by Sigyns feet, levitating before her like an unearthly ghoul. Sigyns eyes bulged from her sockets as she fought to regain control of her body, the struggle becoming more and more urgent as the spectre leaned over her and she looked upon his face once more.

His youthful appearance had been drained from his face, his features now ghastly and ghoulish, all of his skin almost melted away leaving only cloudy shades of his skull. The Sentinel cracked open his mouth with a sickening click, whispering an ominous warning to the girl that that lay before him, trapped in her own body.

“Those who betray will suffer tenfold” 

Sigyn felt her arm begin to twitch as she took in the phantoms words. Wrestling with herself in fear her arm shot forward as the shadow grabbed her roughly and began to shake her. Sigyn screamed and finally broke from the nightmare she had become entrapped in.

............

No longer in her cell or the temple, Sigyn woke to find herself being restrained by the god of thunder himself. She felt Thors firm grip on her shoulders as she fought against him, writhing as she let out the last of her screams. Her mind was in chaos, she could not understand what was happening to her, all she wanted, all she wished for in that moment was for the thoughts swirling in her head to stop. For her body to know the peace it had known before the Feast of the Fallen.

“Please, Lady, you are safe”

Sigyn could hear Thor attempting to try and soothe her but he was clearly more able on the battlefield than he was in the healer's tent. 

It was like she was still stuck between worlds. The constriction she had felt in the cell and the terror she had faced in her dream were still foremost in her mind and her body was not done fighting. She continued to wriggle and the crown prince continued to restrain her.

“Has my brother returned?” Thor threw the question at some faceless bystanders whose answers remained muffled in Sigyns ears.

She was calming now, or growing tired, either way her movements were weakening. Her eyes roved in their sockets, locking on the side of the thunder gods face. She could make out his features, his sallow skin not unlike his father's, his yellow hair frayed, undone by his struggle to keep her still. She could she his blue eyes, narrowed with desperation, staring to the side of where Sigyn lay, looking out for something.

Feeling her fear rise once more Sigyn regained her strength to struggle and began to thrash about once more. She didn't care whose son he was, what he was the god of or what kingdom he was going to inherit, Thor would not contain her here, wherever here was.

Her eyes full of determination she glared at the prince, willing him to look at her so he would see her fury. More voices signaled the entrance of others to the chamber in which Sigyn was being held captive but she didn't care to see them. She wanted one thing and that was to be freed.

With a touch her fury softened and Sigyn lay still. Thor loosened his grip entirely but still kept his hands lightly clasped around her upper arms. She turned to her right to meet the soft brown eyes of Mother Nålys, who was gently stroking Sigyns hair as her whole body melted into calm.

“My son”

Sigyn heard another soft female voice emit from behind Mother Nålys. The words were obviously directed at Thor as he let go completely of the novice, stepping back to allow her a full view of where she was.

Breathing heavily, Sigyn found herself in a warmly lit room, miles away from the dark confines of the cell and the grey dread of her dream. She was surrounded by healers with terrified looks on their faces. Something must have happened, why else would they fear her? Why else would it take the thunder god to restrain her. Her limbs were sore and she felt, for the first time, the comfort of the soft blanket which was covering her. Looking downwards she realized that her efforts to tear herself from her dress must have been successful, as she could see the end of her under-dress peeping out from beneath what appeared to be a dark green cloak. Beginning to feel a lump form in her throat she moved to meet the gaze of the only person in the room that she trusted, stopping just short of her when her eyes rested on the other two figures that had gathered beside Thor, who was now staring at Sigyn with a look of pity. Frigga, the Queen herself, was standing two feet behind Mother Nålys, a look of deep concern etched on her face. Next to her, stood Loki, still in his fine clothing from the ceremony but without the billowing cloak that he had worn. Sigyn looked down at her blanket once more and back to the prince. How had she come to be swaddled in his cloak? Loki tilted his head curiously. He was trying to conceal the fear that bubbled in his eyes by offering a clumsy smile at the novice, but the fact that Sigyn was the cause of this made tears swim into her eyes, the lump in her throat worsening. 

Breaking her eye contact with the prince for the second time that day she turned to the High Mother, her voice weak and broken as she asked the question that bore the answer she dreaded to hear.

“What have I done?”


	3. The Glass Eyed Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> Mild peril, panic and distress.
> 
> Reason for publishing delay at end of chapter.

Now that the crowd had cleared Sigyn was offered some time to reflect, but her sore and weary body was not long reminding her of what she had been through. She remained out of sorts. Up until now the swarm of spectators that had gathered in the miniscule healing chamber had stifled her, the relief she felt when the Queen ushered them out flooded her body, but her repose was temporary. Calmness spread through the room, a stillness even, but the emptiness was disconcerting, the silent din provoking the headache that stung Sigyn deeply.

She shut her eyelids, blocking out the soft orange glow that, whilst momentarily comforting, was now magnifying the unwelcome sensations in her head.

_The ghostly sentinel rushed forward, his skeleton beginning to crumble._

Sigyn’s eyes burst open wide, the flashback from her nightmare painfully etched itself into her brain. She shook her head to try and rid herself of the images that were stuck inside.

_Glass eyes gazed from his disintegrating skull, piercing through Sigyn like darts._

She pinched the bridge of her nose, a force of habit that did nothing to relieve her symptoms, her free hand ripped at the edge of the robe which still swaddled her shoulders. Her fingers hastily tore at the stitching which adorned the edge of the garment, her uncontrollable thoughts provoking the frenzy.

_“You will suffer....”_

Snapping out of her trance as the sentinels sentence faded into the shadows of her mind, she jumped as the door to the chamber opened and Mother Nålys stepped inside. Sigyn moved her eyes to meet the gaze of the only person she trusted. The worry on the High Mothers face was unmistakable, the shadows caused by the low lighting only magnified the concern that was etched into her visage. Already unnerved, Nålys’ unfamiliar demeanor shook Sigyn a little deeper. She opened her mouth slightly, a question forming on the edge of her tongue, but the entrance of the Queen forced it back before she had a chance to utter a word.

Frigga gently made her way into the room, almost gliding she was so graceful. A soft smile spread across her face as she lightly stepped towards Sigyn.

She stared at the Queen as she made her way towards her, her warm welcoming face made only more so by the golden light that reflected upon it. Sigyn felt herself bite her lip as a lump formed in her dry throat, fighting with all the strength she had left not to break down entirely in front of the All-Mother.

Her limbs froze as Frigga stood right in front of her, leaving no distance between them. Sigyn could feel the warmth radiate towards her as the Queen raised her hand gracefully and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“It’s been quite a day, dear one.”

Sigyn broke down entirely. This small simple gesture brought to a head all the emotions that had been building up in her body since the morning of the Feast of the Fallen. She was defeated and in that moment didn’t even have the strength to care about behavioral protocols.

As soon as the first guttural howl left Sigyns throat she felt the All-mothers arms surrounding her, enveloping her in an embrace that the young novice sorely needed. Her body shook with every sob, her cries muffled by the firm hold she found herself in. Her arms lay limply by her side as Frigga continued to clutch her. All of the feelings that had bubbled beneath the surface, out of sight, were rushing towards the brim, forcing themselves through Sigyns small frame with great force, filling her cries with pain.

She continued to push them out, despite the strength it took from her, and slowly but surely they began to subside into meek whimpers.

As her tears tapered off they were replaced with a sense of embarrassment and Sigyn slowly pulled backwards, feeling Frigga’s arms open to release her from the embrace.

She dabbed at her face with the rich material of Loki’s robe, shoddily trying to shove any hint of sorrow from her swollen visage. She could feel the bags that had formed under her eyes, a combination of exhaustion and distress. She bowed her head, ashamed that she had allowed herself to be so familiar with royalty.

“Forgive me.” Sigyns voice was little more than a whisper, feeble and broken.

Frigga’s hand once more squeezed Sigyns shoulder reassuringly. Sigyn could feel the lump in her throat begin to grown anew but fought with all her might not to submit to another bout of hysterics. She had already been too bold with her actions.

“My dear, whatever for?” Frigga’s voice remained calm and reassuring. If she had been bothered by the overwhelming display she certainly didn’t show it. “Tears are nothing to be ashamed of, if anything they should be encouraged when necessary.”

Sigyn raised her head to meet the gaze of the All-Mother. She was smiling down at her, completely sincere in all of her actions.

Here she was, an insignificant novice, a girl of little consequence, why was she receiving such attention from the Queen of Asgard?

She looked once more at Mother Nålys, who had now moved to stand beside Frigga, her face still etched with concern, but less sinister since she moved from the shadows. For the first time since she had called out her name in the Temple of the Gods, the High Mother spoke, her voice firm, but broken in places.

“Her Majesty would like to ask you some questions, Sigyn”

Sigyn nodded slowly and dutifully. Fear began to swim inside of her once more, but Frigga's embrace had done much to calm her and, being grateful for this, she was happy to oblige in anything the Queen asked of her.

“First of all, I must apologise for the way you were treated today.”

Sigyns mouth fell open on hearing Frigga’s words.

“Whoever sanctioned your arrest shall be dealt with harshly, they had no right to inflict that upon you.”

Sigyn stared at the Queen aghast. Admittedly she did not understand why she had been thrown in the dungeons, why she had been forced into a situation that had produced such traumatic effects within her, but an apology from the Queen? She was humbled.

“I....your majesty, that is....”

“Absolutely what must be done.” Frigga’s tone became more definite as she cut off the young novice. “According to my son, your quick reactions saved the life of my husband, this is not something for which I personally, nor I think the King, would throw someone in a cell.”

Sigyn remained in shock, honestly unsure of how she should respond to the magnanimous gesture. She threw her eyes wildly in the direction of Mother Nålys who attempted an encouraging smile, but it was still lined with concern. This shook away the warm sense of gratitude that had built up in the novice. The High Mother had practically raised her, Sigyn knew every look, every move that she made, the fact that her demeanor was now so unfamiliar to her provoked the questions that had been building in the back of Sigyns mind to fall out of her mouth.

“What happened today?” She asked, her voice still shaking, but determined. “Why were people staring at me? Why did they have fear in their eyes? Why...”

Sigyns fingers grazed the area where Thors hands had held her down. There were bruises there for sure and her skin stung as the fabric pressed into her wounds.

“We were hoping that you could help us understand that”

Sigyn winced as Frigga answered her reel of questions, the sting still lingering within her arm. How was she supposed to help? If they were completely clueless as to why she was here then their efforts were futile, she knew no more than they did.

“Sigyn” Mother Nålys’ tone was low as she spoke, still worried but regaining that sense of strength that Sigyn was so familiar with. “Prince Loki informed her Majesty that you alerted him to the attempt on the King, what was it that made you aware of the attack?”

Sigyns hand became still. She stared at the High Mother blankly

“I don’t know”

Her answer was automatic and honest.

“I just....I just sensed it”.

Sigyn could see the concern sweeping over Mother Nålys’ face once more.

“It was just like, I was being pulled towards what was happening, I didn’t know what I was going to see, even now I’m not sure what I did see.”

She looked up to the faces of the two women once more, Nålys had moved her gaze from Sigyn to Frigga, whose warm smile had turned into a curious frown, the look of a woman whose mind was working at a hundred miles a minute.

“Could it be what you suspected?” Mother Nålys asked Frigga, her tone low, almost as if she was trying to block Sigyn out of the conversation.

Frigga continued to stare at Sigyn, seemingly ignoring the High Mother’s question.

“May I enquire as to what caused you such distress during your confinement?”

Sigyn froze. She had given no thought as to why she had woken in terror, what had caused her nightmare. Perhaps it was claustrophobic, a combination of her embarrassment before attending the ceremony, the events during it and then her arrest.

“I had a dream M’am” The words slipped out of Sigyns mouth before she had even thought about them.

Mother Nålys heightened her stance, rolling her shoulders, uncomfortable with her wards response. Frigga remained the same, calmly and cooly continuing her line of questions.

“What did you dream of, Sigyn?”

Sigyns hand began to scuff at the edge of the heavy green robe as she turned her thoughts to the sinister nightmare that she feared would never leave her mind. Her breathing became heavy as she closed her eyes and tried to remember the details which had thrown her into torment.

“I was in the temple....”

_Sigyn stood alone in the Temple of the Gods, in the same spot as her previous nightmare. The vast space in which she found herself was darker now, she could barely make out the details which were so clear in her last dream._

_She moved at an ethereal pace, shifting from her seat and approaching the parapet where Odin stood, his stoic face cast in a burning violet light. The flames from the torch were now blazing towards the ceiling of the temple. Sigyn followed their journey as she moved, watching the fire as it impacted with the marble surface, bursting across the upper limits of the chamber, illuminating the temple as the flames furiously licked across the ceiling._

_Casting her sight once more onto what stood before her she watched as the sentinels armor dissolved, leaving the soldiers decrepit skeleton hovering in rags opposite the All-Father._

_His jaw made the same sickening crack as it opened wide, his entire form rattling as he raised his bony hand, which held the ancient needle like sword. His glass eyes remained the only constant in his appearance, unchanged from how Sigyn had seen them before, full of ghosts._

_Watching the scene play out in horror, Sigyn could feel her lips moving, throwing out the shapes of silent words._

_The Sentinel lunged forward towards Odin, his flesh-less arm now raised to its full height, the blade within his grip reflecting the flames that were beginning to engulf the chamber._

_“NO!” Sigyn cried as the sentinel darted in the direction of the King._

_Odin remained motionless as the sentinels skeleton dissolved, crumbling to dust mere centimeters from where he stood._

_Sigyn began to breathe heavily as the fire began to swarm around them like a hurricane, a warm amber breaking up the cool violet shades as it swirled around them._

_Taking one last look at Odin, Sigyn noticed his face had become old, tired even. He wearily bent his neck to look at the pile of ash that had been the deviant who tried to kill him. Amidst the rubble lay the sword, glowing brightly on the dank pile._

_She felt her mouth move again, but this time she heard the words that came out._

_“You will suffer....”_

“Sigyn!”

Sigyn came out of her trance with a jolt, feeling the hands of Mother Nålys gripping her arms as she tried to shake her out of whatever had taken hold of her. She let out a whimper as the High Mother pressed into her wounded flesh, causing Nålys to suddenly let go of the novice.

She fell backwards onto the healing table with a thud, the force of the fall cushioned slightly by the thick robe and soft surface of the table.

Her headache had returned anew and Sigyn longed for the lights to be shut out, for Mother Nålys and the Queen to leave her to her solitude. She craved sleep and her tiredness was getting the better of her. Feeling a lump rise once more in her throat she could hear the two women speak, almost as if they were in a distant room.

“It is as we feared then.”

Mother Nålys wasn’t so much asking a question as she was confirming a fact. Sigyn could feel her move closer to where she lay and felt the High Mother’s soft hand rest upon her own, giving it a light squeeze, comforting her from some unknown grief. The lump in her throat was expanding, trying to force itself out. Her stomach began to churn.

“As suspected.” The Queen corrected her. “Yes.”

Sigyn weakly tried to pull herself up, the building nausea suffocating her as she lay. Mother Nålys helped to pull her gently up, carefully avoiding the parts of Sigyn’s arms that were bruised.

The room swayed as Sigyn sat upright. Like everything that had happened that day she attempted to fight it but it was too much and before she knew it she was vomiting over the side of the healing table, into a very conveniently placed bowl.

She was utterly mortified. In front of a normal asgardian her behaviour would have been impertinent, but in front of Royalty? Sigyn did not think there was a word to describe her actions. She stared downwards at her round knees, the shapes of which poked through the fabric of Loki’s robe, praying that she would just disappear. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option.

“Sigyn” Frigga spoke again, this time with a calm cool sense of authority in her voice. The woman meant business, this Sigyn was sure of. “I have a proposition for you.”

Sigyn stared at the All-Mother blankly before turning to look at Mother Nålys who was tenderly rubbing her wards arm. She smiled gently at Sigyn, almost sorrowfully.

This confused Sigyn. What exactly was happening...

“Oh my dear.” Frigga addressed Sigyn, almost sensing her question “We have much to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to those of you who are following this story and may have been wondering about the delay with chapter 3. I got a new job the week after beginning this work and so have spent the last couple of weeks in an intensive training course which has left me pretty worn out and unable to give the necessary time to this project. I'm pretty confident that I'll be back on track with the posts now that I'm settled in at work and hopefully I'll have another one up by next weekend.
> 
> Thanks a million to those of you who are reading, to those who have left Kudos and to those who have Bookmarked it especially. I've been building this story up in my head for quite a while now so to know that people are actually enjoying it is an added bonus:)
> 
> Thanks a million & happy reading,  
> KaHan:)


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